


Merci

by Reservation_Red



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Depression, Drug Abuse, F/F, Mental Illness, Modern AU, Ymir-Centric, alcoholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reservation_Red/pseuds/Reservation_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been two years in her life. It had been an eternity of hell for Ymir. However, now...Ymir is dragged back into her broken past on the cusp of Thanksgiving for once and for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forever Has Numbers

Her bare body was like marble in the moonlight, glowing alabaster and the only thing in my room that was beautiful and right.

My hand went to her back, stroking against her silky skin, and I was onyx against her in the dark.

We were two entirely different people but she made me whole and complete.

"Ymir," her voice gasped from the dark with a fluttery laugh.

I felt my lips part, my teeth hitting the air as I chuckled, skimming my hand down her sensitive and ticklish sides.

"Krista," I taunted her and I felt her perpetually warm hands against my face, caressing all who I was.

She knew everything of me.

She loved me to my core—never asked me to change an aspect of myself in return for her adoration.

I loved her so much more than I thought I'd ever be able to care for someone.

"Ah," she removed her hand, replacing it with a gentle kiss as she sat up, pressing her back against the wall.

Her hair was now in the celestial light—it was starlight like those plucked from the Heavens by angels themselves.

She was so beautiful.

"Ymir, can you give me the bottle of water and my pills?" She asked.

I propped myself up by my elbows, reaching to the cluttered nightstand full of old cigarette packages—I had to get rid of those. I quit about a month or two ago?—until I felt the jingle of medication and the crunch of plastic followed by the slosh of liquids.

"Here," I popped open the lid, counting out her dosage, and carefully distributed them into her open palms, "you're starting to run out…I will go buy some more from Connie."

Her parents were religious cunts, refusing to give her medication or address that she had medical needs.

"Thanks Ymir." Her voice was quiet.

She didn't like the idea that I had to buy it off the streets, but I wanted her happy—I wanted her to feel comfortable and healthy…

She was my girl.

And I'd do anything for my girl.

"Soon, my lease will be up," I heard her gulp down the water. I took it from her when she was done and put it back, "and…we can finally get a place together… away from your parents… I'm applying for that promotion, too…and then I can pay for your medication. Legally."

My arms sought her out, outstretched, waiting for her to crawl into my naked lap.

I could hear her smile as she came over, letting me cradle her close to my body, rocking her and kissing her forehead over and over.

"I know," she said, touching my face, making me pull my lips down to hers and we kissed over and over until she had her nose against mine, rubbing them together affectionately.

It made me feel like I was under the warmest, softest blanket, safe by a fire, watching snow fall outside into perfect, white blankets.

She made me feel like I had a reason to belong.

No pill ever made me feel this way.

"Je t'aime," she whispered into the heat of our breathing, kissing me.

I returned them with a dazing laziness, deep under the spell of her foreign tongue.

"I love you, too, Krista," I gave.

I surrendered my body and soul and heart to her again.

And again.

Way into the midnight as the stars and planets sailed as lost voyages against the ocean of the sky, I submitted to the love of my life.

Heaven wasn't a dream or place beyond death—it was death by her loving hands and knowing that bliss was being awake with her.

.

.

.

The dream was always the same every night.

I dreamt of her over and over—all our moments I held dear as if they were yesterday.

I was a slave to my own madness.

I woke up to torrents of icy rivers in my veins and brain—threatening to drown me. I felt a void in my stomach and the constant chewing behind my eyes to find something to stop it.

She had been gone for two years.

Dead.

But every night was the same slow bittersweet torment of our last night together—the night where I should've told her to stay at my apartment instead.

To tell her to ignore her parents incessant calls and just fuck them and spend the night with me.

I should've stopped her.

I should've held her tighter—it was my fault.

I sat up in my bed.

It was cold and quiet.

Pitch black.

No sign of life except the deep whiff of dirty clothes, the rot of three week old garbage and the pungent smell of cartons and cartons of chain smoking.

It was like she never existed.

It was just a dream of someone I made up—Krista Reiss.

She was all in my head.

I got up, walking to my bathroom.

My brain wasn't registering. It was frozen on the aching loneliness of not feeling her against my body—it made me try to remember her face but it was foreign.

I had long hid pictures of her deep inside the dresser in my closet.

In the still full drawer of her clothing that had long lost their scent against my tears and pillowcase until they became one with the smell of my own pathetic existence.

I opened the mirror cabinet.

A plethora of pill bottles—all labeled with scotch tape as 'sell' or 'buy more' and 'mine'.

I opened my personal one, dumping out what I thought was necessary to burn the dream out of my head and downed them without water.

I couldn't drink water with the dream of her drinking water.

It hurt too much to replicate what was loss.

Even if it was something as simple as being in the same bed… seeing the same night sky… drinking water… or ever considering that I could be fine.

I took out my supply after putting mine away, stuffing them in my bag.

I just got a full case of Adderall and Ritalin a few months ago. I kept them in storage until Finals were coming up at the local community colleges and universities-sold them okay at the community colleges, but the real bank was at the big universities with the kids who were pre-med and needing that extra edge to get by.

Hopefully I could sell all my supply before the end of the month and be able to pay my rent and shit for two months.

The landlord had been getting on my ass over stupid shit like smell.

I didn't even bother with brushing my hair down, tottering through the short hall and snatching an almost empty packet of cigs from the counter, heading out into the cold afternoon, ready to catch the bus to the coffee shop near the university where all the smart students would be trying to refuel their fried brains with gallons of caffeine.

In that state of stupidity and raw hopelessness over pleasing rich mommy and daddy I could sell them for high prices.

Easy as taking a shit.

Just like that, I could feel myself ease into the shoes I wore ever since—a tired, careless drug dealer that lived from payment to payment, day to day high and drunk off my fucking ass.

It was a shitty life but one I'd rather take than slipping back into my own.

I was stepping right out the door when my stomach growled and the hunger pains hit again.

"Fuck," I slammed the door shut just to piss off the guy next door—every night I had hear him fucking his girlfriend with her obnoxious screaming.

Fuck him in particu—fuck. My arm went to my stomach and I felt my face tighten.

When was the last time I ate?

Five days ago?

Nothing ever sounded good.

It was all like sawdust and gruel in my mouth. It just never tasted right.

But my stomach kept protesting despite how tightly I clutched it.

Fuck. Fine.

Food.

Get food before I head out.

What could I get?

There was the Shari's down the street that Kri—no.

Oh.

A Fro-Yo that Krista and I always loved to go after the—ah.

None of that was good.

I could just go to the shitty supermarket nearby and grab whatever grimy sandwiches they half-assed.

Yeah.

That'd be fine.

I set off down the street, estimating I had about fifteen minutes to kill at this time of day—everyone was about getting out of the last of their classes and the evening traffic rush would start. The bus would be late like always.

I tightened my hold on my bag as I made my way to the doors, shouldering them open and walking to their grubby deli selection.

Half of it looked like there could be a rat in it or some sort of fucking disease.

I glanced over at the cashier—some lard of a man, hunkered over a computer behind bullet-proof glass. His large, cheeto-covered fingers dug deep into his own butt crack, itching and the pulling out.

He even sniffed his fingers.

Yeah.

Fuck that.

I ain't going to get no dick cheese sandwich.

My hunger was immediately gone.

Why the fuck was I in this shitty little gas sta—

"Ymir?"

That voice.

No.

I already began to walk away, pretending I didn't hear a thing.

"Ymir, it's really you," I felt my shoulder grasped—my whole stomach flew into my throat as I whipped around, causing her hand to slip from it.

"What?" I asked, irritated, pretending I didn't know her.

"It is you!" She smiled—fuck.

No, no, no, no—

"Ymir," she smiled, blonde locks falling into her face as she was placing a flower crown on my head, "wake up, you look like a hobo."

That smile was the same as Krista's.

"It's me—Freida, Freida Reiss, I'm —'s sister!"

Her face, her eyes, her everything—it was Krista's.

It was hers.

I felt my breath stifle and the hair on my back grew stiff—it felt like static was shocking me in every vulnerable spot.

"Hey," it came out easy because after all this time pretending to be okay came easy.

But I didn't afford her a smile.

"You do remember! You're almost like how I remember you!" She gave me a hug and she smelled like flowers and the sun.

I pulled away just as soon as we made contact.

"Yeah, it was good to see you, but I have stuff to do—"

"On Thanksgiving eve? Nonsense!" She brought me back by taking hold of my hand.

"I was just gassing up my car before heading to dinner at the old cabin! Why don't you come with me? I could use the company! Oh, I'd love to hear how've you been!" She smiled but I felt forced.

So fake and in denial.

As if she hadn't avoided me ever since the day her sister died.

As if her family didn't blame me for her death.

Hypocritical bitch.

"Nah. I don't really like Thanksgiving—goes against my whole culture and heritage thing…" It was a lie but white people didn't get that.

Everyone was so sensitive about that shit these days I could get away with murder by saying it was for my ancestors.

I would quote myself on that.

"Oh! You're such a dweeb! I remember when you told that to —! She was so afraid she offended you!" Freida wasn't giving up.

She always had that pyscho older sister vibe—the kind where they were kind as angels but that smile held grim consequences if you didn't politely obey them.

"Look, alright," I whipped my hand out of her grasp, "I get it… whatever… it's fine… we don't have to do this… don't have to do this for… for her sake."

It felt empty.

Like a rotten shell.

Freida stared at me and her eyes went down—staring at our feet.

She looked defeated but she grabbed my wrist regardless with that same determination.

"No…please, Ymir… do this for me at least." She whispered and I didn't know what that could ever mean.

The weight of my pill-filled backpack reminded me I had to get shit done and earn cash.

But the guilt that was building in my stomach told me that Krista would want me to at least do one last favor for Freida—they were always close.

Too close to where Freida took it upon herself to include my shitty fucking self in Thanksgiving—the day Krista died.

But I gave in.

It was easy this way—to fall back into that quiet unresponsive state that was familiar. Just like all those nights and days and evenings and weeks spent staring at the side of my bed against the wall where Krista was always safe.

Where she should've been that night.

Safe.

Alive.

Warm and breathing.

I felt my shoulders drop and I gave Freida a weak nod because that's all I could do, feeling my mind go backwards in time, falling off the cliff and watching every moment I agonized over in my head—Krista, Krista, Krista.

"I'm so glad," she said under her breath and we both were upset.

I had my reasons but I didn't know hers.

Maybe we were the same—clinging onto what little Krista left us after she passed.

She went to her parked car outside the small gas grocer-gas station.

And we drove off to the cabin I also tried to forget—an hour out of town at Forty-Nine Degrees North.

The place Krista would always bring our old crew to for a weekend of snowboarding and alcoholic eggnog at her family's 'cabin'. It was more like a big rustic mansion than anything.

Full of good memories that were coming back from the graves of what little happiness I had lingering in me.

"Have you seen any good movies lately?" Freida asked as she turned off the street, heading north of Spokane.

"A few zombie ones."

"Well, zombies are in these days."

-x-x-x-

We got there as it got dark—the whole mountain was groaning and pissed off as a storm was picking up in the distance.

It was fucking freezing.

I brought my coat closer to me as Freida gave the keys to the valet—a fucking valet at their rarely used vacation home.

Which, in itself, rose a question—why the fuck was she having her Thanksgiving dinner here?

Why not her house on the South Hill?

"I always loved it up here! It's refreshing!" She exhaled happily and I didn't even bother to keep up the small talk as we went up the stone stairs and inside the luxurious cabin.

It was already warm with a fire and the smell of turkey—oh God.

Wait.

That was fucking deer meat.

My stomach was now painfully rolling and stabbing into my sides as I gritted my teeth.

Loudly, it growled to be recognized and taken care of.

"Oh, yeah, I knew you'd like deer meat," she laughed.

Wait, she knew?

Oh, fuck me.

She meant to get me in the first place.

But fucking why?

I was starting to get the feeling I should get fucking home.

"You know what," I stayed by the door, "I kind of have other things I forgot about that I need to do."

"Oh! Do them tomorrow!"

"I have a night job."

"Oh, pish-posh. I will pay for whatever hours you missed!"

"I'm already in trouble with my boss."

"I will pay double and you can work here!"

It was a tiny bit tempting but no.

"Freida, I appreciate this and all but I really got shit to do. I can't just fucking miss work—it'd, uh, look bad."

"Oh, you're here only for dinner! I will bring you back afterwards," she relented a little, rolling her eyes.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement.

I looked to see the servants bringing out a large, satin white cloth followed by platter and platter of food—was this just for us two?

I—

"No. Fuck no. Are they coming?!"

"…Ymir, Thanksigiving dinner is a family thing…"

"No, fuck you and fuck them! I ain't staying here!" I growled at her.

I wasn't going to fucking sit next to those sociopathic liars who manipulated Krista all her life.

I didn't even want to fucking look at their rich pasty faces and think that those were the same fucking expressions they gave to Krista when the doctor diagnosed her with bipolar disorder and they refused to treat it.

"Ymir—"

"No. Bring me back. Now."

"Ymir! They're going to be late! You can sit in the other room if they arrive!"

"Fuck you! You fucking knew what you were doing! You were always like this—you fucking crazy bitch!"

"Ymir, for Pete's sake, listen!"

A phone went off.

"Ugh," Freida put a waiting finger up to me as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

…

I heard something open behind me.

I bristled.

"Freida, dear, we're here early! It's good to—Y-Y-Ymir, what're you doing here?" Rod gasped.

His quiet wife was right by his side as I turned around, glaring.

"Oh! Dear…we… well, we weren't expecting you!" They played coy as if we were long lost friends as they smiled weakly.

As if they ever cared for me—I could see it in their icy fucking eyes how much they were displeased.

"An emergency?" Freida hissed into her phone.

"I need to go back right now? I'm having Thanksgiving dinner with my family…"

"Ymir, um, how about you go freshen up?"

"Yes, Ymir-dear, go freshen up! You look like you had a long day!"

"Yes, quite!"

I was ready to spit profanities.

But I stopped.

I felt my heart get stabbed over and over.

My brain froze over as I felt like it dried up in its hollow tomb.

Everything drained from me.

Behind them came Krista, staring with the same beautiful aquamarine I had missed and the same flaxen hair I always dreamed of touching again.

It was her.

Really her.

Tears were there that I couldn't hold back.

"—?" It came out of my mouth.

Her name.

Krista stared but then she glared.

"Is this Ymir?" She seethed and I snapped out of my daze at the venomous tone she used.

"The same Ymir that killed my sister?"

Her sister?

What?

I didn't have time to recover as tears were rolling down my face as the girl before me sneered, walking up to me.

"I finally meet you and here I expected something better," she whispered coldly to me, "you look like trash."

Over and over my heart throbbed pathetically.

My stomach clenched and heaved, threatening to vomit but I had nothing to give.

Nothing.

"Oh, what? Did my sister fail to mention me?" She glared further.

Krista.

"I'm Historia Reiss, her twin sister," she walked past me towards Freida, angry at her sister for even inviting me to their home, "and I wish you were dead."

I wished I was dead.


	2. The Walking Dead

"Um, so, Ymir, darling," Mrs. Reiss speaks up after almost inhaling and choking on her piece of turkey, "what is it that you do these days? Last we've spoken was…well, ages ago…and if I recall you were working as a—hm—barista?"

That was a fancy way to put that I used to work as a Starbucks slave.

"No," I fancied them a fabricated story because Freida proceeded to kick my foot, "I'm now a salesman."

My fork kept shaking in my hand.

"Oh! Good for you, dear," Mrs. Reiss's eyes went wide but they were still dead no matter how she adjusted them.

"Very good. Sales are well?"

"Oh yeah. I can usually pay four months in advance at my apartment."

"Ah, very good, very good!" Rod smiled and winked at me and it made my mouth sour.

I couldn't even finish my third bite of deer meat.

"Ah, do you still live in that, hm…economy apartment?" Mrs. Reiss asked.

Oh, why, Mrs. Reiss!

How very polite of you to refer to it as 'economy' and not 'shit side of town'!

"For now," I shoveled a glob of mashed potatoes in my mouth.

I couldn't help myself.

I kept glancing over at Kr—Historia.

"Oh? We believed you were going to move into that quaint little house near South Hill!"

The very house Krista and I were saving up to—well, that I was saving up to.

I didn't want Krista to have to spend all of her money on it for us—I wanted it to be a thing we did together.

But it didn't matter in the end.

I spent what I saved up on booze, weed, and drugs.

It was what saved me from most of the fallout.

And when that ran out I sold my car because Krista always said to sell it and we'd get a better one.

Never happened.

"So you live in an apartment?" Her voice caught me off guard as I fully gave Historia my attention.

"Yeah."

What would it matter to her?

I couldn't keep my gaze on her.

It hurt—it hollowed my stomach.

"The same one you shared with —?"

"Historia," Freida hushed and the blonde kept staring at me without remorse.

"Isn't it sad? Why don't you move? It's…depressing to even think you do." She stated and every word hit me like a brick from the very foundation of my resolve.

It is sad.

I stayed because I feel like if there was ever an afterlife that Krista was right there in the apartment with me at all times, because she said she'd be with me forever.

And ghosts can only stay in one place.

It was depressing— painful to talk to Krista's ghost in my apartment late at night.

"It isn't bad."

"You shouldn't cling to the past." Historia muttered, angrily impaling her carrots and eating them.

She was a hard and bitter person—Historia Reiss. It seemed like she preferred to be it so much that her plate was full of hard carrots and bitter things. She seemed to take joy in biting things that fought back.

"I'm done." I stood up.

I gave Freida a glare—it was her fault I had to pretend to enjoy the meal.

My mind was nervously bleeding, my stomach kept gnawing at my guts, and my heart was beating fast.

I didn't even have my anxiety pills—fuck me.

"So soon?" Freida asked, concerned—I'm sure.

I nearly scoffed.

"Oh, did I sour your appetite?" Historia asked as something flashed over her eyes and then she distorted back to being angry.

"Leave, then." She shooed me off with a wave of her hand like I was a servant.

I couldn't take it anymore as I walked away to go upstairs into the loft where the beds were—to the bed that Krista shared with me every night up here.

I stopped at the edge of it, staring at the sheets.

How many nights did we make love on this?

So many.

We'd wait till everyone was asleep and I'd start by running my hands up and down the back of her thighs—her small hands would ghost over my forearms and slowly make their way up to my face and pulling me into quiet, loving kisses.

These sheets… they were cleaned over a hundred times but I knew these sheets were soiled with memories of her.

Good memories that were falling apart after this shitty fucking day.

I said her name on my cracking, chapped lips and it brought no comfort.

Just a sting that never left in my heart—a gaping hole that throbbed and echoed throughout my whole body.

It would never be filled.

I sat down, unable to lay down quite yet because of the memories of me and Krista.

I loved her.

I brought my hands to my face and I never realized how sweaty and shaky they were. It made my throat constrict and I couldn't breathe.

There was a solid lump in my throat I couldn't swallow.

It made tears rise into my eyes as my hands went down, gripping the sheets, remembering all of the times I gripped them to not wake anyone up as she loved me.

I couldn't cry now.

I was done with it—she was—I wish…

I fucking wish that it was like back then—where I was only waiting for her to get done showering and everyone decided to snowboard out longer and that she'd soon come back with only a towel and sit in my lap, brushing her rose-scented hair, and telling me of all the fun things we did that day.

I wish she was alive and here.

I—I can't live without her.

"—" it choked out and I was crying all over again.

Over and over, I promised myself I would stop crying but every night I found myself broken over the memories she planted in my head likes fucking parasites.

They never left me alone.

"—," I called out, believing that she was only playing a cruel joke on me and was hiding this whole time.

One night, we were in bed, kissing and touching, and the next I heard she was dead—hit by a semi—and I wasn't given the address to her funeral.

I never and couldn't say goodbye.

Her fucking parents never gave me the cemetery where she was buried.

Fucking hell.

"—, please."

She never came back.

She really was dead.

"—."

.

.

.

I don't know how much time had passed.

I couldn't bring myself to look at my phone.

I couldn't, I thought, but I loved being in misery it seemed.

I opened my phone and my lock screen was Krista eating ramen, grinning with those bright blue eyes and nose crinkled in surprise and glee.

I swiped it open.

Krista was laying in my bed, naked, but the blanket covered that.

She had her mouth open a bit with a hint of drool.

Hair messy.

Every morning, I positioned my phone to her side of my bed and pretend that she was there.

If I focused hard enough, she would be… until I reached out for her.

All delusion and illusion.

Rabbit holes and hat tricks to fuck my mind up even more.

I clicked my phone off and sat up.

I had to piss…

Fuck.

I only had my backpack here with my supply… most of it was stupid shit that wouldn't help me get by.

I did have some Hydros, though.

Taking a few from my selling inventory wouldn't hurt.

I got up, rubbing my aching, red eyes. My cheeks felt tight from all the dried tears.

Normal things, really.

I stumbled my way towards the stairs and nobody was up.

Freida left long time ago to go to her emergency meeting and I was stuck here.

Fucking useless.

I trekked down the stairs and into the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I had picked my backpack from the living room along the way.

I put it on the counter and rummaged through it as quietly as possible—finding the color coded bottles handy.

Ah.

There we are—I swiped the red capped pill canister.

Further down the rabbit hole I go.

I twisted and popped it up, grabbing a few and then throwing them into my mouth eagerly.

Soon, I could drift away to sleep and forget some things.

Things will be too hazy to remember after that.

"What're you doing?"

I slowly turned around, pretending to not be startled as I put the pills back into my backpack, zipping it closed.

"Taking my medication?" I told her.

Historia didn't seem convinced as she closed the door behind her.

"Really? Let me see," she held out her hand and I glared at her.

"No. I don't have to show you anything," the words were heavy on my tongue, because she looked just like Krista…

Saying hurtful words to Krista was...something I couldn't do.

It felt like a slap to the face to see a replica of Krista glaring at me—as if judging me to my very fucking core like I was an eyesore.

"Honestly," she huffed and then leaned against the door, trapping us inside the bathroom.

I stared at her and she stared at me.

Nothing happened.

I sighed, grabbing a toothbrush from the cabinet—Krista's.

I applied a thick glob of toothpaste.

"Why are you using my toothbrush?" Historia hissed.

"It ain't yours," I replied, quietly, "it's your sister's."

And that shut her up as I went to harshly brushing my teeth till I bled. I liked it best that way.

I kept my eyes on myself in the mirror to try and ignore her, hoping she'd leave me in peace but I could feel her cold eyes staring at me.

"I never saw someone brush so angrily," she commented but it was without much to go off of.

She cleared her throat.

"Do you miss —?"

I spat out the toothpaste and gargled water.

I glared over at her.

"What do you fucking think?"

She was hitting every nerve.

She flinched and then—tears?—snarled back at me.

"I'm trying to fucking be polite," she snapped and I couldn't believe my fucking ears.

Helping?

Truly?

She was a fucking cunt!

"What fucking bullshit, Historia," I chimed back and I saw some tears fall down her eyes.

"Don't say my fucking name!" She shot back and went towards the bathroom door.

Good!

"Father was right—how could — love you!? If she wasn't dating you she'd be alive and happy!" She slammed the door behind her and I felt my blood boil as I grabbed the toothbrush and shoved it in my bag.

I snatched the nearest thing near me and chucked it at the wall, hearing it slam and shatter open with splats of shampoo everywhere.

"FUCK YOU!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, uncaring.

"I FUCKING LOVE HER! I TOOK CARE OF HER!"

The fuckers had to know.

I was crying all over again as my voice cracked, tearing me apart.

"I-I did my best," I put my hands against the counter, bowing my head, trying to get ahold of my fucking self—don't break down here, don't do it, fucking don't.

"I—I wanted—I did my best—I—I was good to her."

But they all blamed me for her death—if she wasn't there she wouldn't have gotten into that car crash.

Guess who begged for her to spend the night?

Me.

They said it was my fault.

If she was home…she'd be alive today.

If she said no the third time to me pleading, she'd be alive.

It—I should've taken no for an answer.

It—

"I love her, I love her, I love her," I sobbed under my breath because I didn't mean for her to die. I just wanted to be close to the person I loved.

But even with all the excuses in the world, I knew it'd never forgive me from what happened to Krista.

She died because I was selfish and bitter.

If I just—

"—, I'm sorry… I'm sorry," I coughed, inhaling sharply and I had to fall back onto the toilet, wheezing.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe.

Control your fucking self, Ymir.

Breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

Breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

Forget.

One.

Two.

Three.

"Oh…" I closed my eyes.

The high was coming.

Everything was getting hazy again.

"Thank God." I whispered, struggling to get up and back into my room. I nabbed my bag as I shouldered against the wall with my head full of clouds and dizziness and—ah, so good.

"Thank…God…" I stumbled back to my bed, too high and gone to be strung up to die with my thoughts and guilt.

Too high to even truly comprehend the bullshit that was called death and heartbreak.

Just… me.

And bliss.


	3. Despair is a Blizzard

I sat inside a hospital room with the incessant beeping of machines, pain in my arms where IVs used to be, and the smell of bleach.

It was always perpetually sunset in this room.

"It's good to see you, Historia."

I was staring at the curtain that divided me and Krista, my sister.

I remembered her visiting me every now and then when mother and father would let her.

I was always so sick.

"You've met Ymir…"

I saw her sitting up in the bed.

Her head bowed.

"I still love her." She whispered and for a moment the drapes blew and I saw her sad face staring at me and it sent an indescribable emotion through my whole body like someone dumped hot water on me.

I said her name but in here my voice never worked.

She was gone from view again behind the flowing curtains.

"I know… You don't understand her, but try to be nice to her… For me?" Krista pleaded desperately.

"Try to remember how love is?"

It didn't make sense to me anymore.

Love was for convenience but I knew deep down that I only ever loved Krista- she understood me and gave me hope in the hospital.

"She's so much more. Isn't she?" Krista said, bitterly laughing.

And I guess I could understand that.

She was someone… And I felt like there was more to her just like Krista said.

Her voice was something I knew Krista loved.

It was only natural to understand Krista. We were the same after all-twins, simply.

"Thanks, Historia."

.

.

.

Outside the cabin I couldn't see the distant tree line anymore.

The wind was beginning to howl through the trees and the snowflakes were thick as cotton.

My hands were shaking as I leaned against the wooden railing, collecting my wits and sanity with my last cigarette and a large cup of coffee.

It had my name on it and all with flowers.

Krista and I had made coffee cups for each other up here during one Christmas.

It tasted as bitter as this expensive shit could get.

The previous night was a haze of sleep and waking up crying and reaching out and expecting to feel Krista beside me.

It was fucking hell.

In the morning I paid the price of not eating and yet downing some Hydros. I felt raw and sick as hell with a rolling headache that didn't want to leave at all.

"Fuck," I gritted, shivering.

The cold made it not so bad-inside was a furnace that just made itself a breeding ground of misery for me. At least out here I was alone-

"Hello," Historia walked outside with at least three different coats and went further down the desk away from me, glaring at my lit cigarette, and cellphone to her ear.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you…"

Yeah, no shit you can't. The service up here was gone to hell.

"Oh. Yeah. Happy Thanksiving." Historia sighed.

She was quiet, facing away from me and probably observing the coming storm, too.

Fucking Freida better be hauling her ass back so I could go home.

I wasn't going to stick around for this bullshit any longer.

"Can we talk about this another day?" She seemed exhausted.

I kept gazing over at her, wondering who she could be talking to?

"...we will talk about it, Reiner."

What?

Reiner?!

The same fucking guy who tried to get in between me and Krista since middle school?

The rich ape who never had to lift a finger because of his shady ass parents?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Couldn't get Krista so he went after her twin sister?

God.

I felt so ill to my stomach at the idea that I began to dry heave.

"Are you okay?" I heard her racing over and I about had a heart attack when she touched me.

I snapped away from her and she didn't even glare.

I heard the muffled broken-up voice of his through her cellphone.

"Yeah, it's Ymir."

There was a pause as the fit ended.

Then there was a barrage of noise from her phone and I saw her glare at it.

"Oh, shut up." She growled and stamped her thumb against her phone, effectively ending the call.

Now.

That made me smile as I snorted.

"What?" She sniffed.

"I fucking hate that guy-Reiner… Fucking hate him." I was slumped over and had my arms and chin resting against the railing.

"He's my fiancé." Historia disapproved.

It didn't make sense with how she treated him.

"Go figure."

What a fucking skeezy guy.

"Though," Historia leaned against the railing by me, "he is… A stupid ape."

My eyes widened and I coughed out a cackle of laughter as Historia tried her best to hide her cheeky smile.

"That's exactly what I call him!" I shook my head, flicking my cigarette down in the winterscape.

"Really?" She couldn't stop her giggle this time and I watched her laugh- the crinkle in her nose, how white her smile was, the way her icy eyes melted into warmth.

For a moment it felt like old times with Krista.

My stomach hurt and rolled and painfully ripped my heart down to its frothing void, but it was almost welcomed when she looked over at me and I felt my heart throb over and over.

"That's funny," she breathed, quite content with our similar humor.

It was quiet for a moment until she began to shiver and huff.

"It's really cold out here…" Historia murmured.

Hah.

Just like her sister.

Even her little nose was turning as red as her cheeks.

"Have you gotten breakfast yet?" Historia asked and I shook my head.

She glared at me and then slapped my bare arm.

I winced and held it in pain.

"Go in and eat! You're all sticks and bones!" She chided, grabbing my ear!

Fuck!

"Ow! Knock it off!"

"Get in there and eat or you will die!"

It was reminiscent almost.

Just only if I closed my eyes and believed it so.

-x-x-x-

I spent my time sleeping the rest of the day after eating, waiting for Freida but she never came back.

I sat at the top of the stairs to the living room, trying to calm myself.

Going outside was not an option anymore as the storm was howling with a full on blizzard.

"Call her," I heard the hushed whisper.

I glanced at the clock-Five P.M.

I peered through the support beams of the rails and saw Mr. & Mrs. Reiss clamoring together with dirty looks and growls.

The sound of their phone ringing filled the whole room-did one of them have a hearing problem?

"Hello?" Freida's voice was heard.

What.

She was fucking ignoring my calls!

"Freida, where are you?" Rod hissed.

"You were supposed to bring the little whore back home!" Mrs. Reiss seethed.

"Who? What?"

"The mutt you brought with you! What were you thinking!? This is outrageous! Do you know what're you even doing?!" They were chewing her out.

"Out of everyone, we did not want to see her!"

"She is filthy and disgusting! God would weep for her sins!"

"Historia!"

I felt sweat going down my back and my legs wouldn't stop shaking.

Everything in my body was telling me to run.

I had to leave.

I was-

"Because of her-" I blocked out the rest as I covered my ears, squeezing my eyes shut.

I held them till my ears were ringing and my eyes were watering.

"Historia, tell your sister of Ymir!"

"... What did she do, Historia?" Freida's voice was fragile as if hurt.

"She is crude." Historia shot.

I stood up.

With every step down the stairs she spoke.

"She smokes and smells terrible. She has unsavory language. She's broken and senseless. She is a drug addict. She is absolutely the worst person ever."

"Oh! Uh, Ymir, dear!" Mrs. Reiss gawked when I shoved past them towards the door.

"Ymir! At least listen to us!" Rod called out but I knew what they were going to say.

I should've died instead of Krista.

I shoved the door open, letting in the screams and torrents of the storm as I stepped out.

"Ymir!" Historia cried out but I didn't give her the satisfaction of hesitating.

I slammed the door closed after me, freezing but racing into the storm, down the hill where the road back to Chewelah and then Spokane.

I didn't have a coat.

I couldn't even see as I tripped into the snowfields, feeling my face freeze over and over as I rolled until something slammed against my back and my bones creaked in pain.

I didn't know where I was.

I couldn't see anything but darkness.

Maybe I wouldn't ever find my way back or be found, but where I wanted to be wasn't at my apartment anymore.

My tears were warm.

"Maybe," I said to the darkness, hoping Krista's ghost was here ready to bring me home, "I will…"

Only howling and trees crying filled my senses with the frost.

"I will be with you finally."

.

.

.

There was crying and sadness.

I opened the bathroom stall door to find Krista—beauty of the school, holding onto herself and bawling.

She glared at me with such intensity I never saw before.

"Get away!" She cried and she even tried to slap me.

What was going on?

"Krista," I told her because I wanted her to know whatever it was that I wasn't going away, "it's okay… what's going on?"

.

.

.

Years of fighting bouts of unreasonable anger and mood swings, trying to keep calm and collected when she couldn't understand her own emotions or figure out why she wanted to do something terrible were coming to a conclusion as I produced a bottle full of Aripiprazole to Krista one day after track meet.

"What is this?" She asked, shying away.

It had been a few months since I found her, but I knew she had been enduring the pain for a long time.

"It's for your Bipolar disorder." I handed them out further and her eyes widened.

"H—How did you get these?" She tried but I shook my head.

"Doesn't matter… these are to help you. If they don't work for awhile then I will get different ones."

It had cost me three-hundred dollars for the full bottle on the street but…

"Why…why would you do this for me?" She asked, scared.

"We're similar," I told her because I wanted her to trust me. I had to take anti-depressants and go in for anger management, but it isn't like it mattered to anyone.

"Oh," she took the bottle, hands shaking and examining it. I went to walk away because I just wanted to help… and I didn't want to linger in this awkward tension.

"W-wait," she stopped me and I turned around for her but I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Is it…th-that you wanted to be friends?"

I felt my whole body turn hot as I quickly glanced away.

"Hah…something like that."  
.

.

.

"I'm glad we found something for you," I had Krista in my lap, kissing her cheek as we sat on the tailgate of my truck.

It had been two years of trial and error with the medication until we found something that worked— Aripiprazole, Fluoxitine, Trazadone, and Lamotrigine.

It had been a few months of her being stable and without her usual mood swings.

So far, she had been happier and having less moments where she'd ask me to hold her until her episodes would stop.

"Yeah," she hummed, tired.

It was late and she took her medication only thirty minutes ago.

But it always knocked her out.

"We should go… let you sleep…"

"Mm if you want," she was already nodding off into my shoulder.

"Yeah."  
.

.

.

"Ymir," she spoke, handing me her medication in secret when her parents barged into her room when we were studying for finals.

"Oh! You had your door closed," her mother smiled, leaving it wide open, "please, keep it open."

"Okay." Krista chimed, smiling.

I slid the pill organizer into my backpack.

She sighed when she heard her mother go downstairs.

"…That was close."

"Yeah…" I took her hand and she looked at me.

"When we graduate highschool, you should live with me… you will never have to hide anything from me… I just want you happy."

.

.

.

"Ymir."  
.

.

.

"Ymir!"  
.

.

.

It was so very cold and hot and bitter.

"—… I…I miss you."

I couldn't stay awake anymore.


	4. First Come, First Serve

My skin and eyes burned—there were tears rolling down my cheeks, stinging like acid.

Hands all over my face.

A hand.

Three hands?

A hand.

It smeared its palm across my cheek and then forehead.

Echoes of the past kept coming in my head—oh, no. It was real.

I tried to roll over but I just couldn't even get myself to. All I could do was shiver and try to move my fingers.

Somewhere in my rattling brain there was a voice—she was talking to me so softly.

_Ymir_ , she said over and over, _Ymir, take off your clothes._

It was Krista.

She was in bed again.

Krista had taken to only wearing her night dress—a small pretty little thing that only did wonders to keep me from not sleeping.

She was posing like the old fashion pin-up girls in bed, hands above and behind her head, pulling out bobby pins.

She was so beautiful and real.

I felt my arm muscle ache and pull and sting as I tried to raise it, but I couldn't.

_Ymir, do you not love me anymore?_

She wasn't real—I couldn't make her real.

She was mine but not.

All I could do is bolt up and scream, shivering, and feeling like the world was falling out beneath my feet.

I felt something slimy fall from my forehead as the world was spinning.

I saw blue eyes and blonde hair.

"—!" I cried out, reaching out and my hands held her shoulders—small and warm.

She was real.

She was mine.

I loved her and she loved me.

Reality would give way for us, I knew, and now it finally happened.

I just had to believe.

I pulled her towards me, holding her roughly into my lap, sobbing as I felt my stomach sickly churn.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I fucking love you—don't ever leave me again!" I told her because I was so afraid she'd leave me again.

"Please, don't go… don't go where I can't find you." I told her because she tried pushing me away but she stopped.

And I felt her arms come around me, too.

"Ymir," she whispered, rubbing my back and she smelled like how I remembered her.

"I love you." I told her and she stiffened.

I didn't want her to leave—I couldn't.

I pulled away and held her face but I couldn't see well—everything was blurry and I couldn't see straight.

"I love you." I whispered again. I didn't want her to ever not hear me say it—I always wanted her where she could hear me.

I leaned forward, kissing her and her lips were warm and I wanted to melt into her—I wanted her to run her hands through my hair like she used to.

I needed her to say my name over and over and whisper me sweet nothings in French, tease me by saying she called me horrible things in that beautiful tongue.

I needed her.

"Y-Ymir," she pulled away and I could see her staring at me but I didn't want any of that.

I spent two years staring into her eyes on my phone's lock screen—too many years zoning off while holding whatever picture frames we had with her.

I leaned forward again.

"Kiss me," I begged.

I don't ever recall what happened.

One moment I was in the storm—was I ever?

Did I die?

I didn't want to know.

I had her now.

She stared at me and I saw tears come down her eyes and a glare, but then she grimaced and leaned her forehead into mine.

"Ymir…you're not being fair." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Kiss me… I beg you… I waited for so long." I pleaded, crying, and she shook, too, because we had been separated for two years.

"Please, —."

She closed her eyes, pressing our noses together and I swore I had never felt like this before—I never knew the despair and bliss between confusion, death, life, torture, suffering, and now release.

It was a mingling ambrosia formed only by her alone.

"—"she kissed my lips before I could say more.

I greedily went in for more but she pulled away.

My breath hitched and I was going to yell for her to never stop touching me, but her beautiful eyes said to listen.

" _Entre deux coeurs qui s'aiment, nul besoin de paroles._ " She whispered in those words that brought shivers up my spine.

And she kissed me again.

Again.

Until the world could no longer support the raw power and emotions racing through me.

It went dark with one last, slow kiss.

.

.

.

I tried opening my eyes but it was dark.

I felt sweat coming down the side of my face and my body wouldn't stop shivering.

I moved my fingers but they were slow and stupid and only able to grasp the cloth I laid on.

It was really hot in here.

My mouth was dry.

It felt like hell.

"—and that's how I knew of you." Someone spoke.

It sounded just like Krista.

"—" I barely could say her name and whoever it was stopped.

"Historia," she whispered, stiff and trailing.

Oh.

I was panting, wanting to shed my clothes and move.

"W—water," I asked and in moments I felt something cold touch my lips and then the sweet liquid slowly trailing down the side of my face.

I moved slightly and hastily gulped what I could until there was no more.

I couldn't see still.

Just darkness.

Silence.

"I learned of you by the pictures — kept in her room. I read her diary and she spoke of you all the time—wishing she could run away and get married to you." Historia went on to the story I barely caught, but I didn't stop her because she had the same tone Krista had when she needed to get something out of her system.

"Mother and father got rid of them." Her voice cracked and I could tell she was crying.

"I felt like I was losing important moments I could never have back, Ymir," she choked.

She must've felt safe enough to open up now that I could not see her.

She was just like Krista.

Whenever we'd fight Krista would have to face away from me to voice her opinions and disagreements because me watching her explain made her cry hard every time.

"They said you got her killed—and I hated you for it—I hated you. They said you were after money and a good-for-nothing." She sniffled.

"B-But even though they said that… I kept my sister's journal because it was all I had of her—the true her… not the martyr my parent's made her to be, saying she was only with you to save you from Hell and that she felt sorry for you."

Each word hit deep but I couldn't tell her to stop.

I didn't have anyone to talk about Krista with.

Or anyone who was truly close.

I knew Historia and Krista were close—they acted the same and Historia was spot on about her. I wondered why Krista never brought me to see her, but, then again, Krista didn't like bringing up family issues.

"W-Were you close?" I asked.

Just so I could hear her talk of Krista.

"I—I don't know," she whispered, silent, hiccupping on her own tears, "I had so many surgeries as a child until recently—she visited me a lot the days before she died. It was like she knew what'd happen."

I didn't want to hear it but I listened.

I couldn't still believe in her death.

"Surgeries?"

"I—I was very sickly as a child—I had a hole in my heart, my parent's said… I don't remember a lot except for what they tell me… they said I was always in and out of consciousness… all I remember is the hospital room."

"D-Did they visit a lot?"

"Who?"

"Your parents." My words were dry and it was hard to concentrate, but I did it for her.

In ways, Historia was just like Krista… like the Krista I knew before she knew what genuine kindness was.

"…No." She admitted.

"They only ever spoke of Krista…and didn't think I'd make it…but they kept saying they were always praying for me." She was bitter.

Ugly over it.

"Fuck them…th-they're bastards anyways." I told her and I heard her choke a laugh.

"Y-Yeah," she paused, humored for only a moment, "only — ever came and visited…"

Krista was always an angel.

No doubt she probably didn't tell me because she knew I'd try to punch some sense into her parents.

"I—I would've visited," I told her.

Visit.

That was a word right?

Yeah.

She was quiet all over again.

I felt something brush hair out of my face—warm and soft.

Her hand.

A quiet thank-you.

"The doctors…they say I have depression. And bipolar."

Just like Krista.

Then again, they were twins.

"I…I have stuff for that…L-Lemme guess, yo-your parents won't let you take it, right?" I bitterly chuckled but ended up having a coughing fit and Historia cup my face, brushing her thumbs over my face.

"Sh…don't talk."

A rare gentleness.

It was too familiar and it made my eyes water as I withheld a whimper.

"They won't…they say it's the devil's work and if God wanted me to be normal he would've done so…they say things happen in life for a reason and we must find why…and they said mine was to show me that through faith of God I was able to live…"

I wanted to call such bullshit.

"I say it's all bullshit," she muttered.

I coughed more, laughing.

Even she chuckled.

"Th-Thatta girl."

"Sh. What I say about talking?" Her words were sharp but her hands were so soft.

"I—If you ever need medication…I-I can smuggle some."

"I know you can," she lightly covered my mouth with a sole finger. Her words were so…everything.

I wish I could see her face.

Then again it was probably better I didn't.

She sounded and looked just like Krista and her words being this soft and breathy reminded me of the intimacy I craved.

"I know you can," she repeated, "I read what you did for my sister… you really are an angel."

I couldn't breathe.

"My parents made you a demon… I hated you for it—I hated everything about you because you took the one person who loved me away from me… but at the same time, you helped my sister and asked for nothing in return… you kept her safe and made sure she would never hurt… You were an angel to her…" Her finger traced my lips but then it left.

Something blurry in my mind said that wasn't the first time Historia touched my lips, but it didn't make sense.

I couldn't remember what it was, but my body was aching and I could feel myself beginning to nod off.

"So I kept the journal… and most of the pictures…" she murmured.

"I let them take some but not all…they mean a lot to me…to see my sister happy…and to know who made it that way." I could feel her breath on my face.

"I was jealous at first—and angry at you… but I grew curious. I wanted to know who you were—what you were like—to hear that laugh she always adored and wrote about—and really see if you have exactly ninety-two freckles on your face." She laughed.

Oh, her laugh was sweet.

It pulled on my heart strings.

It made me so tired, too.

"And I grew…to want to know you."

I could only remember small things now.

I could only comprehend her voice and only a bit of her words.

"You wanted to be my friend?"

The memory was fresh in my mind.

The world was getting quieter now—still hot and uncomfortable, but quiet and better.

"Hah…something like that."

Those words made me smile before falling asleep once more.

.

.

.

I would wake up constantly and I eventually figured out that she put a hot wet rag on my forehead she'd renew every time I began to shiver again.

I don't know where we were exactly—it wasn't any room I was familiar with in the usual cabin.

"Where are we?" I asked, staring out the window, seeing that it was getting light outside.

"One of my parent's cabins," she said.

"Huh?"

"We own this side of the mountain. We rent various cabins to people. This one is vacant." She said.

How did we get here?

"Where's your parents?"

"I don't know."

"They're not here?"

"No." She came back with some more water she heated up by the crackling fire.

I connected the pieces—she had chased after me in the blizzard.

"They didn't even come search for us?"

"Doesn't matter," she sighed, getting agitated with all my questions so I stopped.

She gave me some water to sip on from my makeshift nest on the couch.

I felt achy and sickly but much better than before.

I could barely remember much of the night except waking up a lot and sometimes to her talking to me, telling me of her past and present and musings.

I didn't know how lonely she was until now.

To keep a one-sided conversation with me…

"You know," I put my water down, glancing over at her.

She had dark bags under her eyes—did she even sleep?

"Hm?"

"You running into a blizzard," I licked my lips, feeling bold, "is pretty extreme for someone who just…does it to be friends with someone."

I saw her turn red and then glare at me.

"And normal people don't let other people get killed! Don't be stupid!" She growled, pissed-off.

I knew I hit a mark but it made me queasy on the inside—it felt wrong to do this.

I loved Krista.

Even if mildly flirting for the sake of teasing… especially with her twin sister…

I grimaced.

My eyes were hurting again now.

I felt so tired.

I put my mug on the coffee table and nestled down again for a nap.

It was better I slept than talking more.

I was just burying myself in a hole with this.

But there was a rustling of keys and the door opening, jolting both of us up.

"Oh! Historia! You're safe! My sweetness," Mrs. Reiss cried out, racing forward to hug her daughter.

Rod was right behind her, sighing in relief.

"Thank God," he wiped his sweaty brow, "we were so worried, dear."

Not worried enough to search for her during the night.

"We were going to look for you at night, but—oh, it was so dark! We couldn't reach the Rangers, either! The power must've went out! We could only but wait till morning! I'm so glad you're safe!" Mrs. Reiss wailed some more, kissing Historia's face all over.

But she only looked at me.

Sad.

"I found Ymir. She is safe," she spoke and both her parents finally acknowledged me on the couch.

"Oh! You did!" She gasped.

"That is my daughter—so selfless and brave," Rod praised.

But these were hollow words with no meaning as two Rangers came in, taking my vitals, and ensuring I was safe.

We were both escorted to the large Ranger truck and being brought back to the main cabin. Mrs. Reiss and Rod were behind us in their truck with their chauffer.

The ride was lulling me to sleep—how far did we really go?

Historia must've really been worried.

My eyes shut and I felt her shuffle over to me.

"Here," she helped me lay my head into her lap as she rubbed my temples, running her hand through my hair.

No.

She wasn't worried.

There was something else.

But I didn't want to full acknowledge it.

No.

I couldn't.

I loved Krista…

Not Historia.

I couldn't do that to Historia.

Eventually, my mind tired itself out and I did pass out again.

I didn't hear the melancholic words she said just as I drifted away.

"I can see how and why she fell in love with you."


	5. One & Only

"Reiner, I really don't care," she growled into her phone as I sat in my bed under a fort of blankets.

Nearby was hot soup Historia specifically made even though she said the servants did.

She even made hot coco with the heart marshmallows.

Krista loved those.

"I'm not being mad for no reason! You're pissing me off!" She snapped, pulling her phone away to glare at it and pressing it on speaker phone.

"Historia, you are—I merely was talking about our lunch date. Aren't you excited to see me again? I've been gone for a month." He sounded hurt.

Fuck off, dude.

You literally tried to 'steal' Krista away from me every moment you got. Karma is a bitch, huh?

Wait.

No.

I grabbed the hot coco, drinking it and burning my tongue.

"Ugh," I grimaced and Historia turned, concerned for only a moment.

"I have better things to do than fuss over a stupid lunch date." She muttered, hanging up on him and turning her phone off.

"I hate him. He's too nice."

"Too nice?" I asked, amused and poking my tongue out of my lips, letting the air try and nurse away the burn.

"The wrong kind." She said as if it'd make sense. She came and sat at the foot of my bed, huffing and brooding.

"Like he's hiding something, like he did me wrong in some way," she said and looked at me expectantly.

"What?"

She bit her lip and looked away.

"It's just…you seem to know everything…that can help me."

I snorted and wished that could be said for everything—it'd be great to know exactly what to do.

I would never be in this mess… I would've found a way to bring Krista back.

I closed my eyes.

When Historia was near me it was like Krista never died but left and came back as a different person—the old her that I met so long ago.

"Well," I clicked my tongue, "he used to really dig your sister…would try to get her or woo her behind my back, but she ignored him or just walked away from whatever gifts or signs of affection he did attempt… He's an ugly gorilla."

"Yeah, he is," she joined in on the shit-talking, "he's built like an over-sized monkey like King-Kong. And when he tries to kiss me his breath smells like an air freshener."

I laughed and she was cracked a smile at me.

Just like old times.

Of course, though, it wasn't.

Historia was fumbling with her fingers as I watched.

The ends of her lips twitched like even her body was in turmoil on how to feel.

It made me upset in more ways than I should've ever cared for someone I only met days ago.

"Ymir." Her voice was lost and full of intent.

I met her gaze when she turned.

"I…I don't know what to do."

It didn't make sense but I felt the same way—everything was uncertain and I still had to head back and sell drugs and I wished I knew what to do to make everything better, but you can't bring the dead back.

So it'd never get better.

"I feel you."

"Do you?" She asked, hopeful and then shy.

"I don't think you understand," she held herself, shaking a bit.

I would lean over and hug her but I knew better.

I knew myself.

Hugging her would be fatal for me because she looked so much like Krista and my mind would warp her into her instead of Historia.

I wouldn't use her like that.

I closed my eyes, leaning against the bedframe, trying to keep collected.

"I—I…" she was choking on her own words and I wished she didn't.

Please don't.

"W-When I'm around you, Ymir," her words came fumbling out her mouth, "I don't feel scared… I feel at home."

I wished she didn't say it because my body screamed for me to take her into my arms.

I wanted to kiss her.

But I knew that would be unfair—Krista was the one I truly loved.

"We can't be that way." I told her, opening my eyes and seeing her quietly staring at the floor, tears going down her face, lips tight.

It broke me apart.

"We can't."

"Because you still love —." She whispered.

"Even though she's dead," I felt cold water run down my spine at those words, "you can't…think of me…"

I had nothing to say to her.

Nothing that'd help anyways.

I only sat up straighter, cold and still feeling miserable from last night.

"Look," I couldn't help the words that were coming out because she looked so much like Krista.

I couldn't stand to see Krista cry.

"If I knew… somehow if things were different… we could've been closer. I could've helped you... It isn't I feel things, too." I told her because she deserved some truth.

Historia shot her head sideways to stare at me.

"I know…it's cruel for me to say this and I apologize…but I don't think I could love anyone like how I did…How I—"

"How you loved —."

"Yeah."

She bitterly glared at me but it loosened with each second until she couldn't stand staring me any longer.

"Freida is coming to pick you up. She should be here any second," her voice shut me off from whatever she was feeling.

"Alright."

I didn't want her to look that way—I felt hurt.

I felt upset.

Something in my stomach was coiling and telling me I made a huge mistake, but I had to push my feelings aside.

For two whole years they did nothing but fuck me over.

"I don't want contact after this if you—if you can't like me the way I like you." She gritted and I gave a hesistant nod.

"Alright."

"Don't ever contact me again in fact…I'm going to be married to Reiner at the end of the year anyways."

It made me fucking sick to hear that but I couldn't disagree.

Historia deserved to find someone who'd dote on her…even if I wished I could.

Only because she was like Krista in more ways than I could handle.

Historia shot up from the bed and wiped whatever stray tears she had and only gave me one more glance before ditching me to my sick bed.

When she disappeared down stairs I felt my own tears well up for some reason. I laughed at myself, wiping them and grabbing the soup from nearby to eat my sorrows out.

I took a big slurp and was disappointed.

The soup had long been cold.

.

.

.

When Freida got there, I didn't get a goodbye from Historia.

I didn't expect one from her parents but the servants bid me farewell—some who've been there since we were kids even gave me hugs with sadness.

"So…Ymir," Freida led me down to her car, "did you have a good time?"

She kept looking over her shoulder as if something would happen.

"No."

In the end I knew it'd just haunt me all the same and I'd return to being a drug addicted piece of shit.

It was only a vacation from thinking like that.

"Didn't like Historia?" She asked, quiet and small when we hopped in her rig.

"She's fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yeah."

She was trying to advocate, I could tell, but she should know her place.

I wasn't going to date Krista's twin—that was a fucking low blow.

"What if… I tried to explain more about her? Would you reconsider? Ymir, there's so much—"

"No. Drop it."

"Ymir if I told you—"

"I said drop it! I don't have those feelings! I just want to be left alone!" I snapped, glaring at her.

"If it wasn't for you, Freida, I wouldn't had to deal with this shit! I was doing fine on my own! Nothing you can say will make any of this better!"

The only thing she could say was that Krista was alive but even the Reiss heiress, owner of international corporations and billions could not resurrect the dead.

Freida flinched.

She looked at her steering wheel for a long time before starting the ignition.

"If that's how you feel," she whispered, upset.

"I thought you'd be different… but I see Reiner has always been the better candidate."

I laughed.

"Sure, whatever—go fuck yourself."

Just like that I slipped back into the familiar territory of being an asshole.

All I needed now was my beer, a wad full of cash, and some cigarettes.

-x-x-x-

_Weeks ago…_  


"Freida?"

"Hm?"

Freida looked up from her reports to see Historia holding the diary she always carried close to her.

It was the only thing that seemed to make her happy.

"What…what was Ymir's favorite food?"

She always asked about her in one way or another ever since discovering the diary.

It made Freida want to cry every time she brought her up but she knew she couldn't tell Historia all the sadness.

Or else her parents would do things.

"Deer meat," she answered, smiling.

"Deer meat?"

"Yeah, she's Native American. She likes to hunt sometimes, too," she rested her face into her hands, "— and her used to go whenever they went back on the reservation."

"Oh," she blinked as if she should know this.

She took time to process it before blushing and smiling so rarely.

"I—I wish I got to meet her," she hugged the diary, holding up the photo of Ymir she took from the inside.

"She's very pretty…and sounds amazing."

"She's amazing for hunting and liking deer meat?" Freida wandered and it hurt so much.

To see her reading that old diary.

"W-What? I—I didn't mean it that way!"

Freida laughed, letting Historia chew her out, but deep down she knew it was like Historia to be this way.

She knew it deep down.

Historia would've found her way to Ymir after the accident no matter what.

It was just a matter of time.

"What if I told you that you could meet her still?"

-x-x-x-

"Give me fifty dollars and get lost," I growled, throwing the baggy of pills at the Pre-Med students and snatching my payment.

The very last of my supply was bought up in only moments. I ever got to jack up the price and these stupid fucks still bought them with shaky hands and stressed out faces.

Maybe I could make a quick run-by at Connie's place and get some more and make a few more bucks tomorrow.

I pulled my bundle of cash out, counting it.

I had enough for about four months of rent right there. If I could pay it all in advance then I could fuck off the rest of it on whatever I wanted.

I smirked and stashed it in my pocket, grabbing my phone and speed-dialing Connie's number.

"Yo," Connie answered, "what's up?"

"I need some more."

"Yeah? Well, fuck, alright, get down here," he laughed, probably high off his fucking balls.

I hung up and got on the bus heading to the slums.

I swear the fucker could afford a good apartment on South Hill but he was a cheap little bastard. He probably preferred to look sketchy as hell, too, just to look cool.

I snickered at the idea of him caring so much for his image as the bus slowly made its way down there.

I got off my stop and was walking down the street until I saw a familiar blonde.

"Jesus Christ," I whispered, trying to walk past her but she immediately set towards me.

"Ymir, Ymir, Ymir," her words smelled like tobacco and pot as her bony hand clenched my arm, "Ymir, remember me? R-Remember me?"

Of course I wouldn't forget the face of the fucking whore who harassed Krista all the time—her fucking biological mom.

"Y-Ymir," she begged, clinging to my arm when I tried to rip it away, "y-you got stuff, don't you? Ymir, please, please, I—I just need one pill or two… just to get me by—"

"Fuck off." I yanked my arm but the bitch had a hold on it.

"Y-Ymir, please, g—give me just one…I-It's my birthday! P—Please, I need something to get me by, just something—hydros, please?"

She was a fucking shaky ass crack addict now that Reiss had to stop paying hush money to her.

"P—Please," she begged and I was about to push her down but she hurriedly produced some cash, "i—is this enough?"

It was only a few dollars.

"Fuck you! You know the fucking price!" I snarled.

I had enough of unwanted fucking ghosts of my past.

"N—No! I have more! I—I promise! L-l-let's go back to my place first, p-please, Ymir. I need this-I need this! My parole officer is on lunch break! Please! Hurry! Please!" She was getting crazy, trying to shake me and I slapped her hands off.

"Fine! Fuck! I swear to fucking God, Alma, if you don't have shit I'm going to rat on you!"

"I have enough—oh, Y-Ymir, thank-thank you!" She was staggering down the street as I followed her to her house, glaring at her.

We walked only about five minutes down the street before walking up to an actually well-taken care of house.

At least she was always good at making things look pretty to cover up her bullshit.

"S—Sit down," she said and walked away to get wherever her cash was.

I didn't even bother to sit on her gross ass couch—who knew what fucking shit happened on it.

I heard her dig through her shit before coming back with only a few more dollars—way too short.

"Th-This is all I have—c-can I get at least one?"

I couldn't fucking help myself as I roared, smacking the money out of her hand.

"FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR LIFE AND FUCK ROD REISS!"

Alma jumped, staring at me.

"YOU FUCKERS ALWAYS TRY TO SELL ME SHORT! FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU! NOT ONLY YOU SELL ME SHORT BUT YOU FUCKING LEAVE YOUR DAUGHTER IN THE HOSPITAL JUST LIKE ROD! YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT HISTORIA!"

"W-What?" She choked.

Everything in this world was fucking shitty and I couldn't believe them.

"FUCK YOU! SHE NEEDED YOU—IF YOU COULD ONLY FUCKING CARE FOR SOMEONE OTHER THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE!"

She stared, surprised.

"YOU ONLY CARED ABOUT SUCKING MONEY FROM —! WHAT ABOUT HISTORIA?! YOU GIVE BIRTH TO TWINS AND PLAY FAVORITES! YOU ARE A FUCKING JOKE!"

I threw down a vase nearby me and she staggered back.

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME!"

She was gaping.

"I—I—what?" Her brows went up.

She was actually confused.

How high was she?

But her eyes—no.

They weren't lying.

"W-Who's Historia…? I—I only had one kid ever..."


	6. Zombies are In

"And then, I told her—what fuckboy?" Connie cackled with his mates and nearly shit his pants when I slammed the door open.

"Fuck the drugs, Connie," I panted, eyes wide and watering, "let me borrow your car!"

"W-What?!" Connie glared, chewing his toothpick to the grit.

"Last time I did that you got pulled over with some of our bank! You're lucky it was Jean working that night! He barely got us out of it!" Connie barked but I was already advancing upon him.

"No, you don't understand," I began to cry again, sobbing, holding my face like I was crazy.

"— sh-she's alive, Connie! She's alive!" I couldn't stop bawling as his mates just stared at me, confused and upset because even they knew her.

Connie sighed, looking down and then flicking his hand at his friends to leave. They all got up and gave me and him privacy.

"Ymir…you can't be doing that fucking hard shit, alright? That shit messes you the fuck up—it makes you hallucinate! I know you're going through hard shit, man, I do—I love you like my sister—but, fuck, man, I'm cutting you off—it ain't doin' yo—"

"No! She's alive!" I told him, laughing and almost wanting to even kiss him.

"She's alive! I went to her mother and she said she didn't have twins!"

"What the fuck?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Who the fuck said she had twins?" He asked.

"Jesus Christ, Ymir—are you overdosing? Lemme bring you to the hospital—fucking hell, why you doin' this to me?" He cried out but I slapped him and he just gawked at me.

"What the fuck!?"

"She's alive! I saw her this Thanksgiving! Freida brought me to her! She's alive but her parents were trying to cover it up, Connie! They said she had a twin but she's there! I saw her! I held her! She's alive! She's fucking in Seattle! We need to go get her! Sh—she doesn't remember me, though—she must've got trauma—but, Connie! Please! She's alive! Do not flake on me now!"

"What the fuck? Ymir—" he stopped and he must've saw something in me because his jaw just dropped.

"You're speaking the truth, aren't you?"

"Yes! I'm not fucking high!"

"Holy fucking shit," he just stared at me then began to cry, too, laughing, because so many times before Krista had helped him bake pot brownies to help sell during the winter—for charity drives of all things.

So many times she picked him up after he got in a bad bar fight and would let him sleep in our apartment, patching him up and treating him like the long lost brother he was.

"Sh—for reals—hah—she's…she's alive," he began sob into his hands and then grinning up at me.

"She's alive, Ymir!"

"She's alive!" I brought him up into a hug, picking him up off his feet and swinging him around, both of us laughing because life never got this good—no miracles ever happened to pieces of shit like us, but here we were—happy and fucking blessed beyond reason.

"B-But, wait," he shoved me, getting steady back on the ground, "if she's alive…that meant…her parent…filed a false report…and committed conspiracy?"

It dawned on me now.

They did that.

And the only reason I could even think of was to get her from me.

"Why would they do that?" Connie frowned, already walking over to the fridge and pulling out a back compartment in it where he kept his guns.

"…To keep her from me…"

They really hated me.

It was almost surreal how much they did if they were willing to get Krista in the hospital.

It wasn't in the news the next day...

Her name didn't show up anywhere…

It was making sense now why they didn't let me go to the funeral either.

"But…why would Freida lie to you?" Connie asked, tucking his gun into his waistband and fishing his keys out of his bowl.

"I don't know… I thought we were cool," I admitted.

"And the hospitals? They're in on that shit, too? This is a fucking big scandal," Connie spouted, staring me in the eyes.

"Ymir…they're fucking rolling everyone."

The Reiss corporation was world-wide and if they were found out of doing this…

"I would ask how the fuck they could make a 'twin sister' appear and all this shit, but fucking rich people can do anything… the hospitals and government officials and shit are all under their fucking thumb, sucking their dick," Connie growled.

"Ymir…this can't get out—they know it can't—and if it did? The world would be in outrage…this ain't no small fucking shit."

I never thought Connie was smart or observant until now.

I just gawked at him.

I couldn't just waltz in and take Krista.

It wasn't going to be that easy.

No.

He was right.

If I did that then they'd know I knew what was going on.

And they were willing to kill other people—more than just Krista died in that bus that night—just to get Krista away from me.

"I have a feeling…it's not just about me." I whispered.

Connie didn't budge except to hand a pistol over to me.

"Ymir… they'll fucking kill you." He muttered and glanced over to the only wall decorations in his whole house—two picture frames—one was a large group picture of us and his family and Krista and the next was Krista's picture and the newspaper clipping of the tragic bus accident.

"But…why didn't they kill you before…? Why did they endanger her?" He was lost as we stood, ready and armed.

"They thought I was with her at the time," I could only conclude.

"Connie… we have to find someone who knows how to play on their level…we can't go in with just pistols…"

Connie stared at me and sighed.

"I know just the two people…let's go…"

.

.

.

"Here's all that I could dig up! Oh! Connie, thank you so much for the blood samples of the individuals over—"

"Hey. Less talking of that weird shit and more this," Connie slapped his hand on the documents sprawled on the table.

"I've called the others," Armin announced, walking up from behind Hanji, smiling.

"Ah! Yes! Good! As I was saying, all the patients and dead bodies went to the Gepenzert Hospital first!"

I didn't understand how this was relevant at all.

"Whose major shareholders are the Braun family—"

"Fucking what?!" I roared and Connie had to grab my arm, reminding me to chill the fuck out, but it all made fucking sense—fucking Reiner and his tiny ass fucking ego!

"No doubt Reiner knew exactly what was happening," Hanji smiled, "and it was publically announced that Historia was engaged to Reiner only months ago!"

"Her father fucking paid the bitch off by giving Historia through marriage!"

"And the fame and money," Armin reminded.

"What the fuck! The fucking bastard! No wonder he fucking never shows up anymore!"

"You're dealing with a large circle of corruption!" Hanji laughed, clapping her hands.

"It has always been my dream to become a crime-fighting investigator! In fact, it's just like this one manga I'm—"

"I've sent in private police forces to escort you." Armin smiled.

"We also have an insider!" Hanji snickered.

I glanced at her.

"What?"

"We've been spying on the Reiss for a long time now! We've just been itching to find out what they've been hiding!"

"What kind of shit are you—"

"Don't ask," Connie grunted, "if you're really curious, ask later when we have fucking time."

"Yes, time is of the essence! We must leave now! I would say we should take the airport but that's all too convenient for the Reiss! We must leave now—Agent Ackerman and Jaeger are waiting! Levi will be coming, too—"

Levi?

That was the private investigator that brought—

"Let's go! Yahoo! Action!" Hanji was practically frothing at the mouth.

Krista.

I hurriedly followed behind them all, gritting.

_Krista, I will meet with you again…and this time I will protect you._

-x-x-x-

My voice didn't work in this room—it was stupid to state it because it always had been so since my sister died.

"You saw Ymir." She whispered beyond the bed divider with only her silhouette face me.

"You love her, don't you?"

It was stupid.

It didn't make sense at all.

How could you love someone who you only met once in your entire life?

I only had one look at her when we walked into our cabin—she was so much bigger. I had only ever saw in the photos and it was like gazing at pictures of mountains and then being forced at the foot of them.

It took my breath away.

And my father had given me such a look and I felt so many emotions flood me until I spat out what my parents would want to hear—if I didn't they'd no doubtingly would lock me in the chapel again at home and tell me to pray all day and fast until God had forgiven my disobedience.

"I love her, too… why don't you accept your love?"

I wanted to say she didn't accept mine but Krista was right.

There was something wrong in my gut.

Everything was a puzzle piece and it went to the same puzzle but it was like I kept trying to jam one piece in a place it didn't belong—it had its keep somewhere and I knew what the picture looked like, but what was it?

"It doesn't feel right," she answered for me because I never talked in these dreams.

"You feel like there's something bigger, right?" Krista spoke.

"That these feelings… aren't new and you've felt them before?"

She always knew what I thought.

That's why we were sisters.

"You're right…" She laughed and it filled the sunset room with such warmth.

That laughter…

I wished it was mine.

"Remember hard," she spoke softly and the dream was fading as her bed seeped into darkness, going further and further, "there's a second diary… You'll know where to find it."

.

.

.

I shot up, breathing heavily in my bed.

It was in the late evening from the glance at my clock as I jumped out of bed, scrambling to the bathroom,.

_Where is it?_

"Ugh," I felt like vomiting into the sink when I got to it, breathing heavily, and splashing my face with cold water.

How could I know where Krista's diary was?

I gripped the edges of the sink, wracking my mind for answers, but I just kept thinking of books in the study.

That'd be too obvious for anything.

I grimaced and stood up.

A gut feeling was pulling me towards the study—I had no choice but follow that.

It's all I had even if it was a stupid hunch.

Mother was downstairs, listening to her oldies, and singing along to it with her wine bottle clinking against the other she most likely downed by herself.

Father was probably off on a meeting with his hand up his secretary's skirt. It wouldn't be the first time it happened or the last.

I staggered down the hall and into the study.

Hardly anyone went there except father when he actually had to do work.

I slid the door shut and braced myself against the wall, slowly walking over to the nearest shelf and running my hands across the spines as I read each title.

Nothing sent a spark.

This was stupid.

At least…until my eyes landed on one book in particular.

_Norse Mythology._

It was within the fiction section of their collection, but it stood out.

It called to me.

_Ymir._

Ymir.

I brought my hand out, touching its leather-bound cover and softly took it from its nest on the shelf.

It was dusty as I wiped it off, examining the cover—unassuming.

I opened it and found that it was hollowed out.

Inside was a tiny journal dated three months before my sister's death.

I frowned and went over to the nearby desk, extracting the tiny journal and opening its first page.

Resentment and family issues were broiling three months before—father and mother fighting Freida over her current decisions of the Reiss corporation, mother's alcoholism going rampant and her being caught having an affair with the gardener—father found out with two different mistresses and the church being in an uproar of their found scandals.

I turned page after page, eyes darting and consuming every letter offered.

Eventually, Freida had enough and proclaimed she was moving out.

Krista was going with her to South Hill.

She spoke of not telling Ymir all of the problems, afraid she'd irrationally charge in and cause more disruption.

Mother and father fought tooth and nail until the last month when Krista finally told them she was going to move out by the next month with Ymir.

She had important shares in the corporation and our parents said they'd strip her of all dignities and her fortune if she did.

Freida tried to intervene but father had enough and went back into the business, forcing Freida into a position underneath him.

Mother called Krista every hour when she was gone, asking her to come back.

Krista spoke of wanting to elope with Ymir.

Said she didn't care if she didn't have anything to her name as long as Ymir was hers.

And then it stopped as I reached the end, eyes wide.

I didn't realize all that had been going on before but something on the back of my head hurt—it came in like a crack of lightning as I gasped, falling to my knees and grasping my hair, trying to will the pain away.

"You found it."

I whipped my head to the side, sending myself into dry heaving from the dizziness.

"— had hid it here long ago… I never had the heart to move it." Father spoke from the shadows, walking towards me and then past.

His blue eyes were emotionless.

"She had died tragically…in a car accident." He said as he often did when I got these migraines.

"You were sick all your life…only got better when she died."

He picked up the hollow book from the table and went and grabbed the journal from my hands, placing it back in and then pushing it back into its spot.

"…Only — and I knew where this was. I had found it the night she died when I saw her place it here…she saw me too and fled." He stared down at me on the ground, watching me beginning to sweat.

"Tell me," his eyes were dissecting me like a spider with its prey, "does your head hurt?"

"Y-Yes," I barely could say as a deep gut-ripping dread filled me. I was remembering things—elementary school—things I never had—I remembered Ymir in class always getting into trouble.

I saw her often glance at me but say nothing.

We sat by each other in Arts & Crafts.

But these were not my memories.

"You know," he pulled a vial out of his pocket, flicking it, "your sister died from head trauma…right where you are grabbing…"

In his other hand was a syringe, stabbing into the safety cap and withdrawing whatever liquid was in the vial. He tapped it once and let the air out of it.

My head was throbbing as I tried to scramble away.

"…We never wanted her to die. It was not our intentions, Historia… We were just trying to get Ymir away…she was such an awful girl, you saw that…" He walked towards me and I couldn't even get up—it hurt so fucking bad.

I began to cry.

"S—stop! D-Don't!"

He didn't.

"Memories are painful, Historia… all we wanted was our little girl back—sweet and innocent and never wanted to disappoint us. We were so lonely…we just wanted her back." He smiled sadly.

"We did what we must."

"S—Stop! Father! NO!"


	7. Clear as a Bell

We were passing through the Cascades on the I-90 in the back of a large black van.

I kept staring at the man named Levi as he was reverently cleaning his equipment and guns with thoroughness I never saw before.

I couldn't stop shaking my knee as every minute passed—afraid that somehow in our travel Krista might disappear again.

"So," I had to relax or else I'd juke myself out, "what exactly are you?"

I had to ask again with concern.

Connie sighed, running a hand over his cue-ball head.

"Ooh! We're like a special forces!" Hanji piped as Armin was busy conversing with the other two soldiers—Mikasa Ackerman and Eren Jaeger.

"Special forces…for what?"

"We do a lot of things! We take out corruption and work with—"

"Oi, four-eyes," Levi finally spoke up, glaring at her, "don't mingle with people who don't matter."

I didn't even get mad at his warning.

"That's fine. I don't want to get involved."

"Good," Connie muttered, staring at Hanji in particular as she cried to Levi, "the woman will be calling in favors if you knew… trust me…this shit ain't fucking pretty."

I didn't ask more than that.

It took an hour to get out of the mountain pass and get good signal again as Armin gasped.

"They're moving—Hitch says that — has been brought out in an ambulance with Rod Reiss. They're heading to the hospital—another of Braun's stock." Armin spoke, clacking into his laptop.

"What do you mean!?" I shot up.

Fuck.

No.

Fuck!

Armin glanced up at me with a frown.

"Apparently, one of our cams caught Rod confronting — in the study—something about finding an old diary and that she wasn't supposed to find it…"

"What does that mean!?" I roared and Mikasa stood up in defense to the blond.

"Her memories are returning," Hanji spoke as if it was the most obvious thing, "she remembered where the journal was when she wasn't supposed to… and Rod injected her with a serum of sort…"

She was already reading the e-mail on her tablet.

"Hitch… says this isn't the first time Rod had injected her with something." Hanji's eyes went up, staring at me closely.

"In fact, she says, this is the first time — told him to stop."

"What!?" I had to go.

"Can this fucking van go any faster!?" I screamed at the driver and Levi sighed, returning to cleaning but listening.

"Sit down," Mikasa ordered but I didn't fucking listen.

"If I had to conclude anything, Ymir," Hanji's eyes were eerily wide with not surprise but intent, "Rod has been giving her medication to stop her memories from returning…and the meeting with you has sparked her dormant memories to come back faster."

"What the fuck!? Why didn't your fucking person say what was happening sooner!?"

Krista was alive but she—fuck!

I had to protect her but she was suffering again and now being held captive!

"She had assumed it was medication. It was a prescription by a doctor after all."

"So you just blindly fucking assumed it was okay!?"

"Not at all," Armin interjected, frowning, "we were investigating other matters with Freida and Rod Reiss's dispute. Our concerns weren't with Histori—"

"So you don't even fucking really look into a random daughter popping up!?"

"She was in the records, Ymir," Hanji patiently spoke, "we didn't think anything of it except that Rod hidden her because his cult forbade modern medicine interference. It would've looked badly."

I snorted, glaring at the lot of them.

"So you didn't even care about her?! Why now!? She should be our priority!"

"Our? You are not even a part of us," Levi commented without looking up from his weapon.

"Your mission is personal. Ours has a broader scope that is not limited to retrieval—we professionalize in bringing light to scandals and conspiracies." Hanji stated.

"So why did you bring me along!?"

This didn't make fucking sense.

"Because," Hanji smiled, "who can deny the idea of a Prince saving his lost love?!"

-x-x-x-

The sunset room was no longer so.

In fact, it was never the sunset but the sunrise.

I knew this the moment I awoken there, staring out of the window that was never there before—seeing the birds fly and chirp and watching the sun distantly rise.

It was beautiful.

The curtain diving me and Krista was thin now.

I could not see her silhouette, though.

Not anymore.

"You found it," I heard her.

I tried to talk because I felt like I could.

It came out only softly choked.

"You know the truth now," she whispered.

The birds were so happy outside.

"What will you do now, Historia?"

I was stuttering, unable to give a full sentence.

She was sobbing.

"Will you continue to be Historia—father's and mother's daughter and who will grow to marry Reiner Braun? It would be an easy life. All you have to do is live and ask for things and nothing bad would ever happen." She was crying so hard.

A happy and easy life?

"He will give you your medication when you marry him—he promised that. Remember? It's a life you want—to be free of our parents, right?"

I felt the hot tears roll down my face.

"Historia?"

I could barely feel my limbs—move!

Move!

"Historia, what will you be?"

The air came in gales through the windows—the birds were falling down dead as the red sun was glaring into the room, casting black and red in my eyes.

"I—I will not be Historia Reiss!" I screamed at her because we both needed it—no.

I needed it.

I had the will to be strong—I had my resolve that I'd no longer let myself get bullied around.

My legs and body grew with willpower alone as I shot up from my seat and I darted to the divider, grabbing its burning fabric and ripping it from the pole.

"I WILL NOT GIVE IN!" I roared and it felt so good to hear my own voice—it was everything I wanted.

The room fell apart around me and behind the curtain, above the bed on the wall was a large mirror with pictures of Ymir and me.

I saw myself in my reflection, breathing heavily, and I saw my eyes and face—I was everything I ever wanted to be.

I knew who I was meant to be.

"Good job," I saw my own lips whisper—echoing in the disappearing room—and I saw myself in my eyes.

The mirror grew and I saw Historia Reiss in the reflection, smiling and crying and putting her hand against its glass.

"I'm so happy —… I'm so happy… you saw…it was you all along…"

I went to the mirror, smiling and crying and laughing because we were both happy.

"No, —, I am you—You're happy. I'm happy… there's no difference anymore…"

I laughed and kissed my reflection on my forehead.

"—, thank you," I told myself and the mirror shattered.

The sunset room was gone as I smiled, hugging and loving myself.

.

.

.

"Reiner, you promised me this dosage would keep her good for a whole month!" Father hissed into his cellphone.

My eyes were heavy and hurt but I forced them open, seeing a blinding light glaring down upon me.

I heard sirens—oh, we were in an ambulance as we veered around a corner, sending father into a small fit of curses.

"What do you mean it should've?! She found the journal this time! It's getting worse and worse and you keep promising it won't happen again! I'm starting to lose my faith," he was fuming as we kept going.

I watched as his head began to turn and I closed my eyes, feigning to be asleep.

"You're lucky I had something to keep her quiet for awhile," he seethed, "or I would've had to make a big story about her contracting something to make her incoherent."

I could only hear driblets of Reiner's voice on the other end.

"We're heading to Mauer Maria Hospital now," he spat, "I expect you to be present so we get immediate clearance and you bring in Mister Fubar to administer the medication! And it better fucking working!"

He hissed once and shut his phone off. I cracked one of my eyes open to see him holding his head in his hands.

"This isn't going good," he whispered as he dug through his pocket, finding his cigarettes and lighter.

"This is not good at all."

In moments we were at the hospital and had security shielding us and leading us into the private sections in the basement of the building where research and other activities were being conducted.

Father stopped in the middle of the hallway to talk to a very tall man who was sweating profusely.

I kept my eyes open and glanced everywhere until I found a clock—two hours had passed since he drugged me in the study.

Slowly, I tried to shift my arms and legs but found that I was bound to the gurney.

_No._

I bit my tongue as I struggled more.

"She's awake!" One doctor who was by me announced.

"What!?" My father roared from behind and I thrashed, trying to get free—I wouldn't be brought to wherever he was going to bring me.

"Let me out!" I yelped.

"Hist—"

"My name is —! You bastard!" I screamed at him and he glared.

"Hurry and get her to the room! I want this done correctly now! Reiner Braun will be here to sign off! Hurry!" He ordered at the gawking doctors who nodded and hurriedly brought me to the iron-clad doors.

The last I heard and saw was the tall man whispering something and my father throwing his phone down on the ground, breaking it.

"What do you mean Reiner will be late?!"  
.

.

.

"Tell Mr. Reiss our deepest apologies," Armin snapped the phone shut and then bringing his attention back to Reiner Braun who was held at gunpoint in the hospital's parking lot by Mikasa.

"You bastards," he gritted, sweating as Jaeger tied him up.

Hanji stood above him, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"Oh! We caught a big one!" She wiggled and danced.

Levi was all set and ready to go as Mikasa removed her gun once Reiner was bound.

I was bound, too, held back by Connie.

"Ymir, fucking chill! Chill!" He kept roaring at me as I struggled against his grip.

"I will fucking murder you, you fucking cunt!" I spat in his face, making him grimace.

"If — wasn't waiting, I'd fucking peel your skin off—"

"Oh! We can do that later!" Hanji gasped, slamming her fist against her own palm in delight.

"Fuck man! Leave her out of your fucking weird shit!" Connie huffed as he let me go from the handcuffs.

"Now," Levi stood by me, sizing me up, "you can be a little petty shit and sit here and do this ape in, or you can come with me and get — Reiss to safety so we can have her confess against Rod Reiss in court."

I gritted my teeth, glaring at Reiner and then locking eyes with Hanji.

"Save a spot for me. I want to fucking watch this guy beg for mercy." I clicked my tongue, walking behind Levi, Mikasa, and Eren as they departed, leaving Connie, Armin, and Hanji to deal with the first suspect.

"Security will notice us in a minute," Levi informed, "and the hospital will get on lockdown."

"Armin has identified which floor they're on by hacking their security systems—they're in the basement."

"It needs special clearance, though," Eren frowned.

Levi lifted his hand to show the key card he took from Braun.

"First objective has been cleared. We will use this and smoke them out. Our objectives are Rod Reiss, Bertolt Fubar, and then — Reiss."

I glared at the man for putting her last.

She was needed alive.

"Try to get them alive."

"What about me?" I asked and he spared me only a glimpse.

"You will follow us in and once we get to the basement floor then security will be swarming us, but I will give you the key card to go in further. All the other doctors and security will have access cards we can take." He muttered.

"You won't be covering me?"

"No. You're on your own, Langnar." He snorted as we approached the entrance.

The toll security saw us approach with guns and vests and immediately gaped, scrambling to reach his phone.

Levi merely lifted his gun and shot the very wire of the phone.

The man fainted on the spot.

"I'm mistaken. We have only thirty seconds. Let's go." He sighed at the inconvenience as we hauled ass inside, pushing aside any visitors and patients and workers who immediately fell to the ground at the sight of the gun.

Sirens were blaring in the hospital.

"This is an emergency lockdown! Please remain calm as we—"the overhead speakers sang as we jumped into the first elevator

He slid the card right into an inconspicuous slot near the floor options and the elevator dinged, sending us to the hidden basement.

My hands were beginning to shake as the realization hit my body—I was going to be shot.

I could be killed.

Krista was alive.

She could be hurt or injured or killed.

This wasn't just about us but a larger stake that we were only pawns in.

"What…what happens if I'm shot?" I asked as the dial above the door indicated we were almost at our stop.

"You're down. Pray you don't die." Levi remarked.

"And…if — dies?"

There was a pause as the elevator dinged at our destination.

"Don't think about it," Mikasa answered instead, putting a hand on my shoulder to look at my eyes.

"It won't happen if you truly want to protect the one you love," she said and let me go as the three went in front.  
Levi slapped the access key in my hand.

Levi and Mikasa had their guns up and ready and Eren activated the smoke grenade and threw it the moment the doors slid open.

Guns set fire on us and the world was now white and loud with shells hitting the floor and glass breaking and gunfire coming from all directions.

I fell to the ground, eyes wide.

I was being shot at.

I was fucking going to die if I did this wrong.

For a moment, I was frozen, shaking at the realization that I might not make it, but a foot hit my rear and saw Mikasa above me, covering me.

"Move!" Eren roared as he stood above me, too.

I quickly caught their words and took to crawling and scrambling across the floor.

Researchers and doctors were on the ground with me, covering the back of their heads as security ran and ducked and some even tripped on our bodies as I kept blindly advancing towards the other end of the hallway.

A stray bullet went whizzing by me, breaking the tile near my left hand as I cried out as debris embedded into my arm.

I tried to duck but I slipped on something wet and fell over, eyes locking with the gaping, bloody hole of a dead security guard who took a bullet through the head.

His jaw twitched.

"Fuck!" I tripped and stumbled but got to my feet, racing away, blood all over my arm and hands. I couldn't even tell if it was all mine or not as I found the dented iron-door.

I fumbled and had tears running down my eyes as I tried over and over to get the key into the reader, but my hands were so fucking shaky as another bullet ricocheted off the door and hitting a nearby researcher who screamed in agony.

I finally got the key in and the door buzzed, opening it and I was racing down the empty hall.

All around me were rooms with glass walls with research animals and cadavers being injected with whatever.

All I could think was Krista was in one of these rooms.

Somewhere, she could be—

No.

"—!" I screamed because I was so fucking scared as my own blood was falling from my injured arm.

The walls were white—they were empty.

These were my walls of my apartment as I kept running.

I could smell cigarettes now.

It wasn't a dream.

I kept racing to the end of the hall where another set of doors were.

"—!" I begged because if I stopped I swore she'd disappear from existence.

The gun in my waistband was heavier than I thought as I stopped at the next doors.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I grabbed it, almost slipping right out of my hand as I took it, unfamiliar with the weight.

I tackled the doors open and held my gun up, shaking.

Before me were doctors surrounding a gurney— they had their hands on Krista, taking her off of it as she struggled.

The world hushed to a halt.

My eyes widened.

I saw Krista look up.

The doctors turned their heads to me.

The sound of the universe itself deafened my ears as her mouth opened.

"YMIR!" She cried.

I pulled the trigger, shooting a nearby glass wall and the doctors yelped in surprise, racing away from her.

"YMIR!" She was rushing towards me as I shot at other walls, knees wobbly as I tried to run but I couldn't.

Everything was white like heaven and it felt like I was fighting the angels themselves off of my Krista.

"YMIR!" She was right before me as the doctors escaped into secured offices nearby and I dropped my gun.

"—," I choked.

"Ymir, Ymir, Ymir," she was sobbing as she jumped into my arms, hugging me.

"K—"

"Ymir," her voice was music as she leaned up kissing me fully on the lips, holding my face in her soft hands like she had done so long ago.

"Kr—"

I was beginning to hear her name.

The world stopped tuning it out—it was coming back to me.

"I'm here, I'm here," she whispered, kissing me again and again, sliding down my body and onto her feet.

But my body was so weak.

"Kris—"

"Yes, it's me," she whimpered, hugging me as my knees finally gave out and I fell before her, holding her waist close to my face as I shook, barely able to comprehend everything.

"Krista," her name.

I could hear her name again.

"Krista," I said again and it was there.

She was here.

She was alive.

"Oh."

It was like I swallowed the sun and a thousand storms as my voice cracked and I couldn't stop from wailing, kissing and holding her waist, burying my face in her stomach.

"Don't," I begged, nuzzling her because I was so scared she'd disappear or I'd wake up.

"Don't ever stop saying my name," I cried, feeling my tears pour into her shirt.

"Ymir, Ymir, Ymir," she soothed like a Goddess forgiving a sinner, holding me like a lost child.

"Kr-Krista, I was so scared," I pulled away, staring up into her beautiful aquamarine eyes, "I-I thought you left me… You-you died! You left me and I couldn't follow you! You—you were gone and I never—I was so alone."

My whole body was violently shaking but I managed to smile because she was crying, too, but she was smiling.

"We found each other again," she said, "and I won't leave you."

I had so much to tell her.

I had the world to scream to that miracles happen.

I had everything to say.

But I couldn't as the sound of a gun loading echoed the hallway.

"Krista might not leave you, but you will leave her," Rod's voice boomed like the gun shot that rang and shot through my body.

"YMIR!"


	8. Merci

"Ymir!"

I felt my muscle and skin rip open in a fiery blast as I cringed, biting and splitting my lip open in surprise as I cried out, grasping my arm.

"Krista," Reiss roared, "get away from her. She's filth!"

"Ymir, Ymir," she clung onto me as my body almost slumped over in shock, "you got to get up. Ymir! Please!"

"It was almost perfect!" Reiss barked.

"No! Stop!" Krista begged, barely helping me to my feet as the world spun and all I knew was a fever rising to my face, making me faint as my hand gripped my bleeding arm.

With each heartbeat I felt another wave flood over my hand.

"Fuck," I choked.

I felt like I was close to hyperventilating.

I was barely able to pull my head up, staring at Rod.

Fuck.

My vision was so fucked I was seeing five of him.

"It's too late, Krista! You had your chance to make this all better two years ago," he loosened his tie and collar, raising his gun again.

Krista gasped, tackling me to the ground as a bullet flew past us, breaking a glass wall and hitting a computer, fizzing it out in electrical pops.

I felt my bad shoulder hit the ground with a splat and I howled in agony as every fiber of my fucking body screamed in pain, shorting out my own mind with nothing but blankness that threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

"Why do you care about her, Krista?" Rod asked and aimed right at my face.

My body trembled and I used all my strength to get up, but all I could do was groan and pathetically wobble, barely getting myself off the ground.

I couldn't even think.

All I knew was blood and pain and fear.

"Ymir! Get up, please, get up," Krista begged.

She was already on her feet and pulling me up by my good arm.

Rod fired.

The gun clicked.

"Bastard," he seethed, fishing in his pockets for more ammunition as I staggered, accidentally pushing Krista and I into a glass wall.

"Ymir, please, please," she was trying her best to help me regain my balance as she slung my good arm over her shoulder, "we have to run—please, listen, follow me—trust me, Ymir—babe, please."

I only groaned.

The pain was lessening.

I felt my veins bulging as hot water was thrown on me, pumping me full of energy as I nodded.

"G—Go," I was racing behind her deeper into the underground complex as Rod was finally loading his gun.

Gun.

Right, I had a gun.

I looked down but Krista's hands were already there as she grabbed it, shaking as we went past room after room like it was never ending.

It was like Looney Tunes where Wiley Coyote would keep running but the background would never change—we were stuck in place as Rod snorted behind us, cocking his gun.

"It could've been easy!" He yelled.

Just as we were reaching the midpoint of the stark hallway the electricity went out, leaving only the deafening gasps of our own mouths to haunt us.

"You see," Rod was chuckling and another shot lighted the hallway like a crack of lightning, speeding right past us and shattering another wall as Krista shrieked, "Freida was supposed to take over the company! She was supposed to be my heir—follow through with my plans of supporting the Red Cross by implementing our religion! They were going to spread our religion to extremist third world countries! Enrage them to revolt against old practices with promise of land, food, shelter, and happiness! Our side companies would've profited, Krista! It would've been the best thing—we would win no matter what!"

Krista was slowing down, panting, trying to make sure I was keeping up but I was getting so shaky.

Run!

Fucking run, goddammit!

I scrambled and caught myself against the cool iron door at the end, huffing and dying.

Krista was hastily trying to open it, but it was locked.

"But Freida had her own agenda! She actually wanted to help! She didn't want to expand anything else! She said we were good enough at what we were doing! We didn't need more! That kind of thinking is how businesses die, Krista!"

"Ymir, I—I can't get in," she cried.

"P—Puh—Pa—Pass—n—neck," I tried but my voice was failing me.

"W—What—oh!" Her hands went to my neck, grasping it and feeling until she found the lanyard holding the key code.

She quickly took it off my neck and felt around more.

I heard the slide of the keycard but the door didn't budge.

"The electricity," she whimpered.

"We couldn't have Freida as the owner! No—she was incompetent! She was radical! So, you know what we did? We told her that we'd change our minds if we saw the good of it! She believed it foolishly!" He laughed.

The place lit up like a firework as a bullet came whizzing past us, embedding right into the metal door with sparks.

We both clawed at the door's handle, trying to force it open, trapped.

"We even made her believe we'd want you—Krista!—to join her as head of the business! So you know what she did? She signed to have 50% in your name! Stupid brat! She even signed it over when we tried to kill Ymir!"

A loud buzzing crackled and the electricity was back on and Reiss was only twenty feet away, holding his gun up, smiling wickedly.

"You hear that, you fucking animal? We tried to kill you! But instead we nearly killed our Krista! We thought you were in the bus with her and we hit right on target, but instead we killed the woman sitting by her—Ilse Langnar! And almost lost our beloved daughter! Look what you did!" He roared and shot several rounds, but Krista managed to slip the card one more time in.

The light turned green and it gave us access—I shoved the handle down and we fell forward, the bullets sailing past our heads and down the next hall, sending sparks everywhere as they hit the next hall's lights.

"They're in there!" I heard Mikasa's voice ring out from behind us.

I barely peered over my shoulder to see the previous hall's other doors barge open.

"Right there! Aim for his leg!" Levi voiced but Rod was already advancing upon us, racing to the door.

"Hurry!" Krista screamed, grabbing my bad arm and tugging.

I hissed and got up, sputtering out and running with the last of my energy.

We could hear the bullets hit the metal door and the eerie sound of the lock setting back into place.

"I am not done!" Rod yelled to the squad behind.

"We thought we made a mistake," shots rang out until the last one.

"FUCK!" I fell, screaming as a bullet tore through the side of my thigh.

"YMIR!"

"But it was a blessing! Not only did Krista lose her memory but Reiner came to us with a patent to help soldiers with PTSD forget their traumas! Instead, I got him to give it to Krista to make her into Historia—Our Krista before she was tainted by your sinful hands!" Rod madly wailed.

"Freida couldn't speak anymore—she went into depression and in her stupidity she signed majority shares over to Historia! And Historia only ever listened to us! In fact, Krista, you've signed off to sell weapons to extremists which would make our country fall further into war! And they'll buy from us to supply it all!"

The lights flickered back on.

He raised his gun right at my face.

It clicked, empty.

He glared at it and then chucked it at the wall, breaking it.

"I will do it myself," he marched upon us, pulling back his sleeves, outstretching his hands, clamping them, ready to choke me.

"STOP IT! YOU'RE A MONSTER!" Krista threw herself in front of me, pushing her father back.

"K-Krista!" I cried out because Rod was bigger than her and I could see him overpower her as she was being pushed back into a glass wall.

"Stay out of it, Krista! You've done enough—you've made your bed," he got an arm out of grasps and punched her right in the temple, over and over.

"NOW LAY IN IT!"

Krista gasped and whined, taking every blow, clinging to his other arm.

"BE A GOOD GIRL AND SUBMIT!" He ripped her from himself and grabbed her shoulders, slamming her against the glass until her head cracked the glass itself.

She went limp as a trail of blood was on the wall as she slipped to the ground from his hold.

"KRISTA!"

I shot to my feet and I felt like Prometheus in all his torment as I tackled Rod down.

His hands took hold of my neck, wringing it and I choked and gasped, grabbing his face with my injured arm's hand, clawing his nose and pulling with all my might.

Blood gushed and roared from the ripped flesh as he screamed and relinquished my neck.

"WHORE!" A slap sent my head crashing against the tile and I heard only static.

He got up, stomping his foot right into my ribcage.

I heard bones crack and my insides set on fire.

I vomited onto his shoe but adrenaline was running like fucking drugs in my body as I gripped onto his leg, holding it still long enough to whip my head towards it, gnashing my teeth tight and hard until they throbbed and hurt against his very bone.

He howled as ripped the skin right off his leg and he fell backwards, crying and kicking with his other leg.

Again, I fell but I couldn't get up.

My mouth was full of blood and the world was black and white and shorting out.

I felt something grab my hair, ripping me upwards.

Something clinking.

A flash.

Rod fuming with blood and his nose purple and green and red with bits of flesh hanging from cartilage.

A large glass shard in his bloody hand.

"I will bleed you out like a pig!"

His hand went back, arching to slice my neck wide open.

"Y-Ymir," was Krista's last whimper.

The banging and roaring of the squad trying to break through the doors.

All the fight in my body was broken as I kept dry heaving and gasping for air, bones aching and begging for mercy.

This was how I'd die—protecting Krista.

I felt tears rolling and thickening with my bloodied face.

There was no better way to go…

If only…we could've lived together…happy…

I closed my eyes.

"I—I love you, Krista."

That's all I ever wanted to say to her one last time.

.

.

.

Blood splattered all over my face and my ears were painfully drumming as I fell to the ground in a clatter.

Krista wailed.

Rod plopped onto the ground, drowning in his own blood as brain matter and pieces of skull painted the cracked glass behind him.

A spewing hole of blood came from his temple as his body twitched in his own pool.

I barely could look over.

"F—Freida?"

The woman was clad in SWAT gear like the others, walking over and kicking her father to the side and going to us.

"Are you two okay? I'm sorry I'm late." She whispered.

Her gun was shaking.

"Y—You okay?" I asked.

She had killed her father after all.

I saw her throat bobble for a moment as tears were going down her face.

Her hands released the gun as it clanked against the floor.

"I…I will be…"

From the side, I saw something bright come closer—

"K—Krista…?"

Her eyes were shining as the side of her head was bruised black with gashes, but she didn't even flinch as she brought my head into her lap.

"Y—Ymir," she sobbed, leaning down and kissing my forehead.

"Ymir, I—I love you s—so much—please, wait a little longer, please," she begged and I didn't know what she was talking about.

I was just so tired.

My head kept lulling to the side as I smiled.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I'm just tired… I'm sorry…c-can we talk later?" I asked.

Krista hiccupped and shook her head.

"N-no! Stay with me now, please—please!"

I heard a loud crash and then I saw Mikasa and Eren and Levi.

"He's dead." Freida said.

"What?!" Eren gaped.

"What are we to do, squad leader?" Mikasa turned to Levi who was staring right down at us.

"New objective: Let's get this fucking soldier some fucking medical attention." He nodded to me and pulled Freida to the side.

Mikasa picked me up carefully as Eren steadied and helped Krista stagger after me.

I smiled at her even if it felt like my whole body just got ripped apart and sloppily sewn together.

"Ymir—I—I—" Krista tried but she kept catching on her own tears.

"I love you," I finished for her and she looked at me as if I was the answer to the universe itself.

"I love you, too," she caught up without Eren's help, grabbing and holding my good hand.

"P-Promise me you will be fine!" She begged.

"I promise." I lifted her hand, sloppily kissing it.

"Promise me we will get married and have children!"

"I promise."

"Promise me we will be happy forever." She was smiling as doctors rushed down the hall and to us, loading me up on a gurney and the sound of police sirens and helicopters were loud outside even from the basement.

"I promise."

Krista only brought my hand up to her forehead, laughing and smiling and crying just as I was.

She was alive.

She loved me.

I was alive and I loved her, too.

The world was how it always should've been.

" _Merci._ "

" _Merci _," she repeated, praying in thanks to all those above, kissing my hand.__

__" _Merci_." I said back to her because all I ever wanted in life was just to be with her forever._ _

__And I got it._ _


	9. Epilogue

"Connie, don't teach her that!" I sighed, watching our two-year old daughter, Sasha, messily eat with her hands because her uncle encouraged so.

"Oh, c'mon, she's a baby!" He laughed as I went over, wiping off the potatoes off her chunky cheeks as she squealed and chirped happily for me.

What a flirt.

"Momma," our six year old was at the table, napkin in a polite bib, empty glass in hand, " _Je voudrais de l'eau_."

" _Oui_ ," Krista came from the kitchen with a pitcher of water in hand, smiling.

She filled our eldest's cup.

She looked a lot like Krista—blue eyes and blonde hair—but she had my narrow eyes.

"Annie, you're getting good at French." I praised because I couldn't pick up another language despite years of hearing and having Krista try to teach me.

Annie looked away, blushing and sipping her water.

"Uwahhhhh!" Sasha squeaked, trying to get my attention.

I turned towards her and saw her happily kicking away, reaching and trying to grasp me, hoping I'd pick her up.

"Yeah, yeah," I smiled, holding her and smiling.

She laughed loudly in response and kicked and—

"Oof!" I winced and cringed, nearly buckling and falling over when one of those baby feet hit my bits.

"Oh! Sasha! Be good to your mother," Krista was trying so hard to not laugh, "she's more sensitive there than us."

She took her child, cradling and rocking and dancing with our little potato, making her break into a fit of giggles.

" _Merci_." I huffed, refraining from holding myself and playfully glaring at Sasha.

" _De rien_ , Ymir," Krista replied, making Sasha wave at me as she brought her to the Thanksgiving table.

"Here's to another eight years of happiness," Krista smiled.

"And many more to come," Freida announced, barging through the door with a grin as the children screamed in joy, dropping whatever they were doing and racing toward her in excitement.

"Forever more to come," I limped to stand behind Krista in her chair, hugging her from behind and kissing the crown of her head- our wedding rings glinting in the fireplace's warm light.

"Forever more to come," she repeated, tilting her head back and capturing my lips.

May it always be this way.

And if times ever got rough or that we may temporary be separated, I knew now that there was always hope.

We'd never lose each other—we'd always find a way.

Through life or death.

**FIN**


End file.
